( 424 )
most painful blushes mount into her cheeks, upon observing that he perceived her. She retreated like lightning; yet could not escape remarking, the animated pleasure that beamed from his countenance at this surprise.
She sat down, deeply confused, and wept.
The postilion sent in the maid for orders.
She satisfied and discharged him; and then, endeavouring to dismiss all rumination upon the past, deliberated upon the course which she ought immediately to pursue.
Her musical plan once more became utterly hopeless; for what chance had she now of any private scholars? what probability of obtaining any new protection, when, to the other mysterious disadvantages under which she laboured, would be added accusation of perjury, denounced at the horrible moment of self-destruction?
While suggesting innumerable new
